


Everybody Has A Hungry Heart

by thankyouforexisting



Series: Pizza Is A Metaphor For Love [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Derek is the Pizza Guy, Lydia is evil, M/M, Matchmaking, Stiles has ordered 20 pizzas in the last 14 days, The Hales live in another town, The Sheriff could have a heart attack, scott is a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouforexisting/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“O-M-G, okay! Okay, okay, I’m calm. It’s kind of weird that Derek has always come because sometimes I wonder if maybe Derek is the only delivery guy?  We should probably order at least like four pizzas because then he has to make the trip just for my house –"//In which Derek delivers pizza he isn't meant to, Stiles curls into a ball, Scott is a sucker for Allison, and the girls have all the fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Has A Hungry Heart

**Author's Note:**

> omg! this is shameless fluff with matchmaking friends :) Title taken from Bruce Springsteen's song of the same name. This fic evolved from a prompt i found on tumblr here: http://fanficy-prompts.tumblr.com/post/119989732755/most-of-these-are-shipping-but-some-are-general

_One, two, three, four_  
Can I have a little more?  
Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, I love you  
  
A, B, C, D  
Can I bring my friend to tea?  
E, F, G, H, I, J, I love you

 _-_ "All Together Now" by The Beatles

* * *

 

 

“Stiles,” Scott said slowly, raising his eyebrows, “You have a problem.”

Stiles’s room, which was usually messy and full of clothes everywhere and the ever-lasting smell of curly fries, was littered with pizza boxes. And Scott didn’t see two or three pizza boxes, there were _at least_ fifteen, all on top of each other, making his nose scrunch up with the heavy smell of cheese and rotting pizza toppings. Stiles’s face looked greasy, and he was curled into a tight ball on the floor, groaning every few minutes.

“No more,” he whined, curling into himself tighter, “ _No more_ ,”

Scott thought he was a Good Friend. Except from the time where he completely ditched Stiles for Allison when he was made into a werewolf (and he’d made up for that by groveling and making Stiles feel appreciated for _months_ ), he’d always been there for him, and he’d been the one who held him when his Mom died, he’d been playing videogames with him when Stiles had blurted out: “I like boys and girls” before taping his mouth shut with his hand and staring horrified at him, and he was still there.

So he’d been kind of confused when Stiles didn’t hang out for _three days_ (which was a lot, okay? No matter what Allison muttered under her breath, Stiles and Scott were _not_ codependent!) and didn’t answer his calls or texts, and then he found him in the fetal position on the floor whimpering.

“Stiles, if you’ve finally decided that this is the time to go crazy, well. You could have texted.”

His best friend moaned, “Why do I do this to myself?” It didn’t sound like a question.

Scott sighed, “Be down in five when you’re over your existential crisis.” He turned around, ready to go down the stairs, before adding, “I made your Dad go have a drink with some friends, so you’re going to be questioned. Just a heads up.”

Stiles threw a pillow at him. Scott grinned wolfishly and winked.

…

“The pizza guy is hot,” Stiles confessed, staring at his cup of coffee.

That…actually explained a lot.

“But he’s not just hot,” Stiles hurried, looking panicked, “His name’s Derek, and he tells me funny anecdotes about clients while he’s standing on the porch, and he always smiles at me and he probably thinks I eat nothing but pizza.”

Scott bit his lip. He was _horrible_ at dating advice. He honestly couldn’t figure out how he’d managed to convince Allison to go out with him, because he was clueless and he babbled a lot and also forgot how to word at the same time. So he kind of stared helplessly at Stiles for a minute before he huffed and blurted out:

“I mean, I can’t just go to the guy and say, ‘Hey, I know I’ve asked for pizza _every night_ for two weeks in a row but I’m not actually an unhealthy toad I just think you’re pretty neat?’”

Scott kept staring.

“Do you, uh, do you think we should order pizza?” Stiles asked hopefully, glancing at the door, wringing his hands, “I mean, Derek’s shift just started, I am a grade-A stalker, and yes, I kept check of his shifts, and I _really_ want him to drop by and hey! Maybe I’ll gather my courage and ask him out!”

His best friend winced, “I guess?”

“O-M-G, okay!” Stiles suddenly jumped up, blushing and squealing, “Okay, okay, I’m calm. It’s kind of weird that Derek has _always_ come because sometimes I wonder if maybe Derek is the only delivery guy?  We should probably order at _least_ like four pizzas because then he has to make the trip _just_ for my house –“

“Stiles,” Scott put his hand on his shoulders, speaking calmly, “I think I just saw a rat creep out of a pizza box.”

They screamed.

…

“There you go,” Allison smiled sweetly, “The rat is gone.”

Scott and Stiles hurried to untangle themselves from the embrace of protection from terror that they’d found themselves in before they could blink.

The rat had followed them into the bedroom, and they’d had no choice but to jump onto the bed and call Allison.

Allison just sighed fondly and ruffled her boyfriend’s hair, “It’s okay to be a six foot tall werewolf and still be scared of small rodents. Perfectly normal.” She grinned, “Anyway, how are you, Stiles? Scott was freaking out about you earlier. Also, why do you have so many pizza boxes? Is it like a weird collection thing? Are you going to start gathering hair samples again, because that was creepy enough the first time, you know.”

Stiles bit his lip and shot a glance at Scott that said, _Help!_

Scott shot a glance back, _She’s_ Allison _, Stiles. You_ know _I’m useless against her._

Stiles glared, _Curse you and your disgusting love interest!_

“Stiles has a crush on the pizza guy,” Scott said before his friend could forcefully shut him up. That hadn’t gone that well the last time. Sheriff Stilinski had asked some questions when he’d found them in a…compromising position. He shuddered.

Allison giggled and clasped a hand over her mouth, “That is so precious! What did you do about it?”

Stiles stared at the ground.

“Stiles.”

No reply.

“You _did_ do something about it, right?”

Nothing. Scott scratched the back of this neck.

“Sometimes I can’t believe you. I’m calling Lydia.”

“No!”

…

“We obviously have to make you pretty before _Derek_ arrives with your delivery.” Lydia announced.

“Yeah, he’s gonna _deliver_ all right,” Scott wiggled his eyebrows, and Stiles groaned.

“How am I going to explain getting dressed up for ordering pizza?” he whined, throwing up his arms, “You guys are the worst at planning.”

“Hey,” Scott was hurt, “We saved you from the sea creature that one time.”

“Yeah, after you screwed up and distracted the kelpie (that’s what it’s called, by the way), _I_ got myself out because Lydia couldn’t be bothered to come because she had a hair appointment.”

Lydia pouted, “My hair looked horrible, you know that.”

They both knew it was a lie. Lydia would _never_ miss out on Saving Stiles Operation, but she’d been smart enough to wait until she got research done. The others hadn’t.

“I’ll just ask him out for coffee or something, okay? Just leave me be.”

Lydia pursed her lips. Stiles dared to hope for victory.

She smiled, “I’m still making you look presentable.”

Stiles despaired, but let himself be led away and be paraded like a Ken Doll. Even if he _refused_ to wear skinny jeans.

…

Stiles ordered five pizzas and gave his address like every other night, except on speaker. Erica, the sassy girl who was usually on the phone, laughed, “I think Derek knows your address by heart, kid. Keep your windows locked.”

Allison made a sound like an animal in pain.

“He’s a bit gone on you –AAAHH!” she squeaked, “Don’t poke me, you useless oaf or I’ll tell Stiles –“

The call disconnected.

Stiles gulped.

The girls smiled evilly. Scott glanced at him in sympathy, “You tried to stay manly, bro. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

They waited exactly for ten minutes and thirty-six seconds.

The door bell rang.

It was kind of like in a movie, where everyone’s attention was just focused completely on the door. Stiles stood up, grabbed his wallet, and walked like a man who was going to be executed.

“Hey,” Derek’s eyes were glinting when he opened the door, smiling, “Hungry, huh?”

Derek was wearing his leather jacket, pizzas in one hand, helmet in the other. His eyes were a thousand colors, a bit of the porch light reflected in them.  He rubbed the back of his neck with the helmet holding hand, looking a bit self-conscious. He looked soft and touchable and close while also looking dark and mysterious, enticing.

“Yeah,” he answered, a bit breathlessly, licking his lips nervously, “Yeah.”

His phone beeped, and he glanced at it, annoyed at being interrupted.

**> sneaked away thru back door. Invite him in**

Derek followed his eyes, still standing on the porch and holding pizza reverently, “Have any company?”

“No!” Stiles said, too quickly, “No one,” he added lamely.

 _I just admitted I’m going to eat five pizzas all by myself to the amazing guy I have a crush on. Should I just call the Spanish Inquisition and end it all_?

Derek looked like he was thinking about something, bit his lip, and said, in a forced casual kind of voice, “You know, I’m really on shift tonight.”

“You’re not?” Stiles licked his lips again.

“No,” Derek smiled, taking a step towards him, “I don’t actually work for Erica’s pizza place.”

“You don’t?” he took a step in return.

“I just told them to call me if you ordered anything.”

“You did?” he mumbled, dizzy with giddiness.

“Yes. You look amazing.” Derek whispered, and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Stiles’s.

It was everything he’d imagined it to be. Derek was warm and delicious and Stiles was grinning against his mouth, savoring the taste of mint when –

“OW!” Stiles hissed, backing away, “The pizza burnt me,” he whined, closing his eyes and letting his lips search for Derek’s.

The other man laughed and pushed him away, protecting him from the delicious but traitor heat that radiated from the cardboard box.

He opened his eyes, making a small noise in protest.

Derek was flushed, and he cleared his throat, “I don’t mean to presume –“

“Come in right now,” Stiles growled, fisting his hands in Derek’s shirt and dragging him into the house, barely letting him set the pizza and helmet on the kitchen table before he pounced on him.

…

When the Sheriff came in and saw Stiles sitting on the aforementioned kitchen table, his legs parted, a strange, older, leather jacket wearing man in between them, mauling his son’s neck while he moaned and leaned into it, he screamed.

…

“I can’t believe Pizza Guy is Derek Hale,” Lydia repeated, her eyes still wide with shock.

“How would _I_ know that my amazing boyfriend-to-be was a member of a neighboring pack who all the ladies in Beacon Hills lusted after?”

Lydia sniffed, “You should’ve known.”

Stiles smirked, “He’s great, and he loves me and he nuzzles his head into my shoulder and he likes how I smell and he brings me his mom’s cookies. You're just jealous.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! :D Comments and kudos are appreciated, and you're all awesome!  
> -thankyouforexisting


End file.
